


now i don't feel a thing / when i'm holding his hand (oh i know how to feel, i know that love exists)

by batterwitchofhope



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Character Study, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Gentle Sex, Good consent commentary, Hand Jobs, Kell using blood magic in ways he's probably not supposed to, Kell's kind of a little shit, Kissing, Light Bondage, Lila POV, Lila loves it, Lila prefers to have the upper hand and Kell's a little bit of a sub let's be real here, Mild aftercare, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, Sharing a Bed, Teasing, anyway delilah bard can raw me any day of the week, god they're so in love, i've wanted to use that tag for like three years lmao, theres not much dialogue in this whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batterwitchofhope/pseuds/batterwitchofhope
Summary: He likes to hold her while he sleeps, and even though it’s admittedly sort of strange for her, she has yet to turn him down when he asks. And he always asks permission, no matter what it is. It’s always constant questions with him, and maybe that’s why she’s so alright with it. 
 
Maybe that’s why she hasn’t run away just yet. 
 
(She’s sure it has nothing to do with the way his voice sounds first thing in the morning, or the look on his face when she tells him stories of her months at sea, the peculiar and overwhelming sense like a second skin that he’ll always be waiting for her, or the feeling of his mouth on hers, or the way he says her name. Completely unrelated.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> here's nearly 3k of kellila smut. sorry mom  
> title from "atlantis" by bridgit mendler 
> 
> (side note: this is only tagged f/m as a formality because i'm not quite sure how gender-tagging on ao3 works and i had to pick something, but ve schwab has said lila is genderfluid and i agree with all my heart. i love my genderfluid nonbinary thief pirate baby.)

Lila Bard has always been a light sleeper. 

You don’t survive the streets of Grey London and months at sea with an unfamiliar crew by getting eight hours of beauty rest. She’s accustomed to waking at the slightest twitch, the softest creak of a floorboard, bolting upright and reaching reflexively for her nearest knife. 

Sharing a bed with someone else has been a learning curve, to say the least. 

She’s a fast learner though, and she’s figuring it out night by night as she goes. It’s better now than it was in the beginning, but there are still nights and mornings when she wakes sharply, startled out of sleep by Kell moving or talking softly in his sleep. 

Kell, on the other hand, sleeps like a baby, or maybe a late night bar patron a few too many cups in. It’s something she’s willing to credit to his upbringing, because even if he didn’t grow up particularly _loved_ , he grew up _safe_ , and at least _he_ never has the temptation to bring a knife to bed. 

He likes to hold her while he sleeps, and even though it’s admittedly sort of strange for her, she has yet to turn him down when he asks. And he always asks permission, no matter what it is. It’s always constant questions with him, and maybe that’s why she’s so alright with it. 

Maybe that’s why she hasn’t run away just yet. 

_(She’s sure it has nothing to do with the way his voice sounds first thing in the morning, or the look on his face when she tells him stories of her months at sea, the peculiar and overwhelming sense like a second skin that he’ll always be waiting for her, or the feeling of his mouth on hers, or the way he says her name. Completely unrelated.)_

Whatever the reason, when she wakes she’s still here. She’s always here, in the mornings, in his bed, and she never wants to leave. She wishes she wanted to leave. No, scratch that, she _wishes_ that she wishes she wanted to leave. No matter how many times she plumbs the depths of her heart, looking for that instinct, that twitch in her fingertips, the itch under her skin, she can’t find it. For once, she doesn’t want to run. She wants to stay, and more than anything else, that’s what scares her the most. 

For now, it’s mornings bathed in soft light through the windows, mussed blankets and warm sheets all around her, Kell still sleeping a few inches away. She’s always the first to wake, and it’s taken a while and some getting used to, but she’s finally able to ignore the impulse to slip out of the door before he opens his eyes. There’s a certain kind of intimacy to waking up together, and it strips her down and leaves her vulnerable the way sex never quite can. She crept out before dawn the first few nights, but even if he refused to say it, she could see it on Kell’s face- it hurt him to wake up and find her gone. Waking up beside him is inching closer and closer to second nature these days, and if the look on his face each morning wasn’t enough, Lila muses, the emotional growth is probably good for her. 

This morning, she’s a little bit sore and a little sweaty, the kind of soft clammy heat that comes from sleeping too long in the sun. Her muscles ache in a gorgeous, pleasant kind of way when she stretches, both from the work of sparring with Alucard yesterday afternoon, and from her night with Kell. Thinking about it heats her blood a little, and she shakes off the memory, yawning softly. She’s almost certain she has pillow creases pressed into her cheek. 

Some mornings she manages to slip back asleep for a while, but today, she doesn’t have to wait long for Kell to stir gently on his side of the bed. Lila allows herself a moment of concern about just how comforting the mere sensation of having him at her back is, and then he’s shifting close, wrapping an arm around her, his skin warm where it touches hers. 

She still prefers holding him to being held, but in the mornings, he’s so warm and still half-asleep and soft and he just brackets her so perfectly, chest cradling her back, that she lets herself cherish this little moment of safety. His arm neatly fits into the dip of her waist, and he splays his hand over her stomach. She hums a soft assent, pressing back to meet him as he nuzzles his face against her neck, finding just the right spot and tucking his forehead against her. There’s a good chance his eyes aren’t even open yet, but he seeks her out instinctively anyway, and she’s happy to oblige, letting her eyes slip closed and relaxing into his touch as she waits for him to finish waking up. 

He finally finds his voice a few minutes later, rough from sleep. She can feel him smile faintly against her skin. 

“Morning, Lila.”

She smiles too, tangling one of her hands with his on her stomach, playing her fingers against his. “Morning to you too, Kell. How’d you sleep?”

He sighs softly, and she feels his breath against her neck, tries and fails to ignore how distracting it feels. “I slept alright. Woke up to you, so I’d say it’s a good morning.”

Lila rolls her eyes, laughing a little. “You say that every morning.” 

He hums, dragging his mouth down her neck, pressing a kiss to the dip where it meets her shoulder, mouthing at the skin there gently. She shivers. 

“I wake up to you pretty often, to be fair,” he murmurs, licking softly at her skin, nipping at it. She groans softly. Neck biting is just unfair, really, especially when she’s still half-asleep and everything is just so _warm._

“To be fair, if you keep kissing my neck like that, I’ll show you a good morning,” she teases, letting her voice slip low, just how he likes it, just where she’s comfortable with the sound of it. Kell laughs a little, pressing a kiss to her hair. Something knots in her chest.

“Is that a yes, then?” he asks, breathing the question against her ear, trailing his hand across her stomach, finding the rucked-up edge of her night shirt. He brushes his fingertips against her skin. 

“God,” she sighs, snaking a hand over her head and back to tangle it in his hair. “Yes.” 

She’s expecting him to slide his hand down, bury it between her legs, but he doesn’t move it from its place on her waist. The cocky bastard just rolls his wrist, curling his fingers in the air ever so slightly, and she feels her blood responding to his call, her body betraying her as he toys with her pulse. She feels her heartbeat uptick, heat rushing to her skin, a curl of something gorgeous and heavy in her spine. Her breath catches in her throat. She tightens the hand in his hair, arching her back just so, her thighs pressing together of their own accord. 

“Showoff,” she bites out sharply, and she doesn’t even have to look to know he’s smirking. He pulls her closer even as he flicks his wrist again, and she hisses out the faintest sound as heat floods through her. He’s overly fond of this particular trick, and as fucking infuriating as it is, Lila has to admit it gets under her skin like nothing else. He pushes her and pulls her back, winds her up and teases her along, and it won’t even feel like she’s being touched. Her nerves tell her one story, but the lurch and curl in her stomach tells another altogether. It’s strange, being worked up like this, the sharp surge of direct contact removed from the equation, the low background thrum and ache driving her wild with each passing moment. 

Kell curls two fingers up against the air and Lila _throbs,_ biting back a moan. 

_Bastard._

She makes up her mind, and a second later she has him on his back, kneeling over him, her hips pressing him down into the mattress, knees bracketing his sides. She catches her first real look at him today, then, his eyes a little wide in surprise, clear blue and that inky black. His hair’s rumpled from sleep and her searching hands, the red of it catching the sunlight spilling across the bed. He’s glorious, bewitching, angelic. Something in her aches a little bit at the sight of him.

“Hi,” she breathes. It comes out before she could make sense of it, but his answering smile tells her that he understands. His hands find her hips, squeeze softly, and he’s looking up at her like she’s something to fight for. 

“Hi,” he says, mouth quirking up at one corner, and that’s when it strikes her that this is his first look at her, too. “Any reason for pinning me down?” 

She knows he doesn’t mind, he loves it, actually. She fetches his hands from her hips and holds his wrists in her own, pressing them back to the bed above his head. “Enough was enough,” she says, rocking her hips down against his, savoring the look that passes over his face. “You were cheating.” 

“You weren’t exactly complaining,” he teases, twisting one of his wrists in her grip and smirking as a fresh curl of arousal snakes its way down her spine. She swears under her breath and sits back on her heels, tugging her night shirt up and over her head, dropping it off the side of the bed. She levels a pointed glance at him, telling him to stay put as she leans off the edge of the bed, looking for whatever might be closest and chancing upon Kell’s tie from the night before. She snatches it up and swings a leg over his easily, settling herself back across his hips. She holds up the scrap of fabric, raises an eyebrow, waits for his nod before starting to loop the silk around his wrists, tighten it down against his skin. He lets her, relaxing into the touch, trusting her implicitly, and she loves him for it. 

“It makes for a nice tease, I just happen to have better plans,” she says, leaning down and cradling his jaw in one of her palms. He leans into it, eyes on hers, watchful and eager. She drags her short nails down his side gently, and he hisses at the touch. 

“Do you?” he asks, just enough of a challenge in his voice to make her flush. 

“Mm,” she hums, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone even as her other hand creeps down over his hips. She feels him tense beneath her. “Most of them involve your mouth, love.” 

He shivers, and she grips his jaw, leaning down to steal a kiss from him, a little savage and a little rough, more than a little perfect. He kisses back hungrily, his arms straining against his bonds a bit as he suppresses the instinct to _touch._ She draws her teeth over his lower lip, possessive, teasing a gasp out of him. She pulls back, moves her hand down just where he needs it, rocking her palm against him. 

She’s not sure she’ll ever get over the way he tenses at the first touch, arching into her touch and away all in the same motion, muscles tensing beneath her, just barely biting back a groan. Knowing she can make him feel like this is intoxicating. It’s walking away from a pretty lady with her rings in your pocket, it’s standing at the wheel of her ship, it’s the way her blood sings when she uses magic. 

“Lila,” he says, low and sweet and shivery, and she wraps a hand around him and starts to stroke, slow and smooth. He digs his heels into the mattress, grits his teeth, throws his head back. He’s trying so hard to keep quiet.

“Good, huh? How’s that feel, darling?” She coos, leaving that teasing, knife-edge rasp in her voice, more metal than sweetness. Kell whimpers, bucks his hips once or twice. She smirks.

He opens his mouth to answer her - “Feels good, shit, Lila,” - she twists her hand a little on the next upstroke - “You’re killing me, _fuck_.” His voice cracks, the last word trailing off into a needy little moan. 

“That’s it,” she murmurs, “C’mon. Be loud for me, pretty boy, you know I like to hear you.” 

On the next stroke, Kell breaks. He’s strung high, his voice a shaky, watery mess as he trembles underneath her, pupils blown, cock slick and heavy against her palm. “Lila,” he begs, voice cracking again, rough and low. “Li, please, you’re...fuck, you’re so...come on, damn it, please, you have no idea how good that feels, Lila, don’t stop!” 

She stops toying with him then, finding a rhythm that makes him writhe beneath her and sticking with it. He gets louder and sweeter, crying out as he presses his head back into the mattress, eyes shut tight, moaning and pleading. He comes with a strangled shout, back bowing under the tension of it. He slumps down boneless against the mattress, and she laughs, combing her clean hand through his hair, waiting for his eyes to open. 

When his hazy gaze is back on her, all blissed and unfocused, she licks her hand clean, mostly just to tease him. He swears and groans something under his breath that sounds a lot like “fuck, I love you.” 

Lila dips down to kiss him for a moment, letting him taste himself, running her tongue along his. He sucks on her lower lip, and she itches for his hands on her, so she reaches up to untie his wrists, rubbing them in her hands for a moment. She knows she doesn’t need to check on his circulation, doesn’t need to be that careful with him, that he heals quickly, but she always wants to gentle him back down anyways. 

They kiss for another long moment, long and lazy, and then he’s rolling her over, pressing her down against the sheets. His eyes are scorching on hers as he guides her hands to his hair, makes his way down her body, scattering kisses as he goes. She spreads her legs for him, and he gets them up over his shoulders, fingers digging into her thighs as he licks at her, warm, broad strokes with the flat of his tongue. She presses her heels down into his back, urging him on, tugging at his hair as he kisses at her clit, sucking at it and flicking his tongue just the right way to make her squirm and buck her hips, hissing out little gasps and whimpers. 

She's always been quiet, she's quiet when she comes. Kell’s the loud one, he starts rambling and begging. She's had to hold a hand over his mouth before, but she's just all bitten back curses, little groans and hisses. She'll bite her own knuckles sometimes. Kell called it distractingly sexy once, a fact that comes sharply and unbidden to her mind as she bites her lip and shakes through an orgasm just the right side of too much. Kell licks her through it, sucking at her clit gently, stroking his tongue along it and rubbing his hands up and down her thighs, long calming strokes of skin against skin. 

She collapses down against the sheets, and Kell doesn't even bother to extricate himself from her legs, content to just rest between them, his head pillowed on one of her thighs. He waits until she catches her breath, and then he just reaches a hand up to hers, palm-up, catching her fingers loosely with his. She rakes a hand through his hair, running her short nails against his scalp. 

She eventually drags him up to kiss him, catching the taste of herself on his tongue. They curl together like smoke through air, dye through water, sweet and lazy, giving and taking kisses until they settle against each other. They have a rhythm, falling into each other most nights and again in the mornings. 

Eventually, they'll get up, get dressed, make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast. And if Lila's halfway to buttoning up her waistcoat, shaking her hair out of her eyes, and Kell’s most of the way done lacing up his boots, turning his coat inside and out to find the right side, maybe Lila will toss an “I love you” over her shoulder, casual as anything. He'll reply that he loves her, too, and if they hold hands on their way to the kitchen, well. 

That's not anyone's business but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos & comments mean the world y'all


End file.
